


Miss Joyce Regrets

by StarMaamMke



Series: Different Paths (A multi-fandom collection of AU prompts) [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: AU, F/M, Nanny AU, New York City AU, slightly nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-19 23:39:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9465737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarMaamMke/pseuds/StarMaamMke
Summary: AU Joyce works for the widowed Jim Hopper as a nanny for his daughter Sarah. Jim decides to complicate things. One Shot w/potential to be expanded into long fic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Series based on a prompt list created by @thebestworstidea on Tumblr. I mostly post Jopper, but this was an exercise to see what other ships I could write for. Follow me on Tumblr (@StarMaamMke or @StrangerThingsFics) or leave your prompt requests in the comments.
> 
> The List:
> 
> soulmates au  
> childhood best friends au  
> teacher/student au  
> teacher/single parent au  
> one night stand and falling pregnant au  
> meeting at a coffee shop au  
> fake relationship au  
> roommates au  
> meeting online au  
> high school popular kid/nerd au  
> partners in crime au  
> writer and editor au  
> co-stars au  
> lab partners au  
> meeting in the E.R/A&E au  
> brand new neighbours au  
> meeting at a party whilst drunk au  
> waking up with amnesia au  
> parents meeting when they take their kids to class au  
> dysfunctional relationship au  
> best friends sibling au  
> two miserable people meeting at a wedding au  
> meeting on a train ride au  
> literally bumping into each other au  
> librarian/avid reader au  
> sitting on the same park bench au  
> meeting at a support group au  
> knocking on the wrong door au  
> going away to war au  
> tourist/knowledgeable local au  
> prostitute/client au  
> doctor/companion au  
> celebrity/fan au  
> meeting at a masquerade ball au  
> one of them trying to get the other one off of drugs au  
> living in a society where their love is taboo au  
> meeting in prison au  
> cop/person getting a speeding ticket au  
> long distance relationship au  
> exes meeting again after not speaking for years au  
> ghost/living person au  
> star-crossed lovers au  
> falling in love with their best friend’s partner au  
> one of them being diagnosed with a terminal illness au  
> pretending to hate each other au  
> nanny/single parent au  
> meeting at a festival au  
> meeting again at a high school reunion au  
> boss/intern au  
> going through a divorce au
> 
> The Ships:  
> Hopper/Joyce (Stranger Things)  
> Jonathan/Steve (Stranger Things  
> Mulder/Scully (X-files)  
> Rebecca/Greg (Crazy Ex-Girlfriend)  
> Rebecca/Nathaniel (Crazy Ex-Girlfriend)  
> Han/Leia (Star Wars)  
> Henry/Eliza (Selfie)
> 
> I can't promise the prompts will be answered in an expedient manner since I am working on a story for a Stranger Things Big Bang on Tumblr, but I will definitely consider them.
> 
> Coming up in the series:
> 
> Teacher/Single Parent AU - Jopper  
> One of them trying to get the other one off of drugs AU - Jopper  
> Ghost/Living Person AU- Mulder/Scully  
> High School Popular Kid/Nerd AU - Han/Leia

**New York City**

**1983**

* * *

 

It had been a mistake. Plain and simple. Joyce Byers knew of fellow nannies who had fallen into the trap of pining after their employer, but she was not one of them. Not. At. All. Besides, she wasn’t exactly the image anyone would conjure up when contemplating the stereotypical, love-struck help. She wasn’t a girl fresh out of high school or college. She was a divorcee on the wrong side of her thirties.

Her son had started school at NYU, and their little apartment suddenly seemed huge and lonely. Up until he departed for his first semester, she had worked as a cashier at Woolworths and picked up a little extra money babysitting for the families in her apartment complex. She wasn’t a social person, as a general rule, but the absence of Jonathan made her long for a little bit of conversation and excitement. He was living in the dorms, and even though they resided in the same city, his visits home became few and far between.

Shortly after realizing that she was lonely, Joyce decided to take a chance and apply for jobs that were outside of her comfort zone. Operator, receptionist at the Plaza, personal assistant... it was James Hopper, CEO of Hawkins Inc, and regular fixture in the society pages since his wife’s untimely death from cancer. He needed a live-in nanny for his daughter, Sarah. Joyce wondered why on a earth a multi-millionaire wanted a middle-aged failed housewife from Queens to help raise his little princess. Despite her misgivings, she vacated her apartment and moved into the studio above James Hopper’s garage in the Hudson Valley.

James did not look the part of a CEO, Joyce quickly decided. He was tall and imposing, yes, but he had a messy beard that seemed better suited for some rustic backwoods than a board room. His sandy-blonde hair appeared to be thinning and graying on top of his high forehead, a fact that he did not conceal with a comb-over, and he clearly was not a fitness fanatic like Joyce assumed every rich-boy must be. There was evidence of a gut sagging ever-so-slightly in his ill-fitting suit, but his legs were muscular and strong, and his ass was spectacular...not that Joyce was looking. He seemed positively uncomfortable in his own skin, and his low, uncertain timbre hinted at a lack of social grace.

Later she would discover that the company was inherited from his grandfather, and he had grown up in Queens himself. He had no trace of that tell-tale dialect, and neither did Joyce. She had trained herself to drop the accent for employment opportunities, and he had done the same when his grandfather took his mother back from exile and started to pay for his schooling. His mother had not married the right sort, and she had paid for it. The fact that Joyce lived in his old neighborhood intrigued him, and he wanted his daughter to be surrounded by people who were more down-to-earth.

How did Joyce come to learn all of this from her employer? Alcohol. The same bottle that produced The Big Mistake. A few confessional stories (him with his childhood, and she with her divorce - they did not talk about his dead wife but maybe they should have because then maybe they wouldn’t have…), more than a few shots (he probably spent more money on booze than his suits - excellent stuff!), and Joyce was straddling his lap in his study, plundering his mouth with a greedy tongue.

Jim (he told her to call him Jim when they were sharing life stories) was the one to pump the brakes on the whole thing. His strong fingers had been stroking at the soaked barrier of cotton at her center when he tore his mouth away from hers with a pained groan. Joyce stared down at his darkened expression through a haze of lust and disappointment, his eyes were fixed on a point beyond her left shoulder.

“I can’t.” His voice quavered, but there was steely resolve in his tone.

Joyce nodded, rose unsteadily to her feet, and pulled her skirt down with trembling hands.

“Good night, Mr. Hopper.”

Joyce returned to her elegant little space at the top of the garage and bemoaned her idiocy, but only after she took matters into her own hands over the unbearable sexual frustration her mistake had caused. Shamefully, his name was on her lips as her relief came crashing over her in hot waves. Sated, she contemplated how hard it was going to be to find a new job after only working for a month in her current position. It was going to be an uphill battle, but there was no way he was going to keep her on after the night’s disaster.

She entered the main house through the kitchen with caution the next morning. Ji-James-... Mr. Hopper had never ever insisted on this house having a ‘servants entrance’, but Joyce knew that he liked to have his morning coffee in the grand foyer. It had the most natural light, and he liked greeting the man who hand delivered the newspaper. James Hopper, filthy rich everyman.

Just as Joyce and Sarah were about to head downstairs to go on an excursion to the park, James burst through the doors of the child’s bedroom with a broad grin. Joyce felt her heart leap to her throat, and then crack a bit when he made no acknowledgement of her presence. Sarah gave a little squeal and threw herself into her father’s arms.

“I thought you had to work in the city!” the child remarked once she caught her breath after being tickled, tossed into the air and caught.

“Day off. I can take those because I’m the boss. What are you up to today?”

Sarah squirmed to be put down, and when James obeyed, she ran to Joyce’s side.

“Miss Joyce is taking me to the park to look at bugs and flowers.” Sarah grinned up at Joyce who, despite the tumult her mind was going through, smiled back and took the child’s hand.

James’s smile did not leave his eyes. “Could you ask Miss Joyce if I could come along? Maybe we could go for a little trip to Central Park instead? Maybe FAO Schwarz too?”

Sarah gasped and frantically shook Joyce’s hand. “Miss Joyce, could we?”

“I don’t see why not...but maybe you’d both like to go alone.”

The little girl shook her blonde head and frowned. “No! I want you to go too.” She gave a beseeching look to her father. “Tell her we want her to come too, Daddy!”

Brown eyes met blue as Joyce found herself being studied by her employer. His brow creased in a frown that could have been disapproving or concerned, Joyce was not sure which.

“Maybe Miss Joyce needs a day off, sweetheart.”

Sarah gave a little whine that was cut off by James with a warning look. Joyce knelt by Sarah and kissed her forehead. The girl threw her arms around Joyce’s neck in a tight embrace that made the older woman’s heart ache.

“Besides, what are we going to have to talk about if I’m there with you? You love to tell me stories. Why don’t you knock on my door when you get back, and I’ll make hot chocolate and you can tell me all the fun things you did today.”

Sarah, satisfied with the compromise, took her father’s hand and they left Joyce alone to analyze what had just happened. James had not seemed angry or regretful or ready to give Joyce the boot. In fact, he seemed eager to pretend nothing had happened at all.

Joyce was astonished at how angry this made her. Two could play that game.

Thus began a full week of Joyce going about her business with a mind to only acknowledge James when absolutely unavoidable. She loved Sarah too much to outright jeopardize her position by being unfriendly, so she simply took cues from the other nannies she knew and treated James like an employer. She did not greet him unless he did so first, any question pertaining to Sarah was answered matter-of-factly, and any question about herself was relegated to one syllable responses.

It did not occur to her that the change in atmosphere was unacceptable until the night James knocked on her door. It was close to midnight, and Joyce was expecting him to be out much later. There was some sort of gala that required his attendance, and he left with a beautifully gowned socialite on his arm. A coffee heiress, according to the society pages that pounced on any hint of romance. Not that Joyce ever read those sorts of things, unable to stop herself from searching for any mention of him. Nope. She had heard it from the cook. Flo was such a gossip.

She opened the door in her robe and nightgown. His tux was slightly rumpled, either from revelry or lack of care, she was not certain. He looked slightly drunk, and more than a little irritated.

“I don’t like being treated this way,” he stated, flatly.

Joyce stood aside to let him in and he immediately sank into her recliner with a heavy sigh.

“Bad food at the gala? Date was a snob?” She immediately went to the kitchenette, filled a kettle, and set it to boil. She wasn’t sure how drunk he was, but she knew he wouldn’t turn down coffee.

“I meant by you!” he thundered in her direction. Joyce’s jaw dropped and she crossed her arms under her chest.

“I thought I was treating you like my employer, Mr. Hopper.”

“Please call me ‘Jim’.” his voice was soft and contrite all of a sudden.

“I’m pretty sure we decided that sort of thing was inappropriate.”

She turned her back to him in order to stand on her tiptoes to reach into the cupboard for the french press. Before her fingers could graze the wooden handle, she felt a large hand close gently over her wrist; a solid, sandalwood and bergamot scented wall of warmth at her back. She closed her eyes and sighed when she felt Jim’s breath at her ear.

“Jim…”

“We were both so drunk that night. I wanted to be sure it wasn’t a fluke. I was going to talk to you about it the next day but the way you looked at me in Sarah’s room…”

Joyce turned and looked up at him with astonished eyes.

“The way _I_ looked at you?! I felt invisible in that room!”

“I didn’t want Sarah to suspect anything. She likes you so much, and if she had any idea that there was something wrong I…” he trailed off as his eyes fixed on her lower lip. Joyce snaked out her tongue to dampen it. She didn’t mean to be provocative, her lips were dry as a general rule, but the gesture caused Jim to take a sharp breath before he brought his lips crashing down on hers.

It was still going to be messy, Joyce decided when he hoisted her on top of the counter and began to pull at her robe. God knows it was the wrong thing to do, but the self-awareness wasn’t stopping her from pulling off his belt and working at his fly so they could deepen their connection. His lips and teeth were feasting at her neck and one large hand was under the bodice of her nightgown, tweaking and exploring the flesh beneath, and she remembered an old chestnut she had heard a million times before.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.


End file.
